e prefer to go across the way.
They find it just too miserable here.... The simple fact is that this
place doesn't interest them. I'm not beautiful, I have prickly heat,
and my two little girls are dead.... Over there it's very different,
there is laughter all the time. A woman from Arles, a beautiful woman
with lots of lace and three gold chains round her neck, keeps the
place. The driver, her lover, brings in customers for her in the coach.
She also has a number of attractive girls for chamber maids.... This
also brings lots of business in! She gets all the young people from
Bezouces, from Redessan and from Jonquieres. The coachmen go out of
their way to call in at her place.... As for me, I'm stuck in here all
day, all alone, eating my heart out.

She said all that with a distracted, vacant way, forehead still pressed
against the window pane. Obviously, there was something in the inn
opposite that really interested her.... Suddenly, over the road, a lot
started to happen. The coach edged forward in the dust. The sounds of
cracking whips and a horn was heard. The young girls squeezed together
in the doorway and shouted:

--Goodbye!... Goodbye!... And above all that, the wonderful voice,
singing, as before, most beautifully,

Took her little silver can,
To the river made her way,
She didn't notice by the water,
Three young cavaliers, quite near.

The woman's whole body shook on hearing that voice; and she turned
towards me and whispered:

--Do you hear that? That's my husband.... Don't you think he has a
beautiful voice?

I looked at her, stupefied.

--What? Your husband?... So even he goes over there?

Then, with an apologetic air, but movingly, she said:

--What can you do, monsieur? Men are like that, they don't like tears,
and I'm always breaking down, since our little girls died.... Then,
this dump of a place, where nobody comes, is so miserable.... Well
then, when he gets really fed up, my poor dear Jose goes over the road
for a drink, and, the woman from Arles gets him to sing with that
gorgeous voice of his. Hush!... There he goes again. And, trembling,
and with huge tears that made her look even more ugly, she stood there
in front of the window, hands held out in ecstasy, listening to her
Jose singing to the woman from Arles:

The first was bold and whispered to her,
You're so beautiful my dear!

AT MILIANAH

_Notes from the Voyage._

This time, I am going to take you away to